


Kings Crossed

by Brennah_K



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Dark Harry/not Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 20:58:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18746977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brennah_K/pseuds/Brennah_K
Summary: The meeting at King's Cross doesn't go quite how Albus imagined.





	Kings Crossed

> “Harry, you wonderful boy; you brave, brave man. Let us walk.”
> 
> “Professor, what is that?”
> 
> “Something beyond either of our help. A part of Voldemort, sent here to die.”
> 
> “And exactly where are we?” 
> 
> “I was going to ask you that. Where would you say that we are?” 
> 
> “Well, it looks like King’s Cross Station, only cleaner, and without all the …” 
> 
> “King’s Cross, is that right?...”
> 
> _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, chp 35._  
>    
> 

  
“Muggle filth,” Harry sneered, finishing his comment about King’s Cross - overriding the old fool, even as Dumbledore froze, turning to him with a confused and disapproving expression.

“Harry?!? My boy, I know that your relatives where not particularly kind to you, but…” 

“No, they really weren’t,” Harry paused turning back to study the small fetal creature under the bench, “They didn’t leave much to him at all. A shame, that; I could have done with a bit more of a challenge.” 

“What?! What are you saying?” Albus demanded in a quaking voice, turning to look between the creature and the young man he’d watched grow from practically a bespeckled waif into a formidable young wizard. 

The mists between the bench and themselves thinned letting Albus see two approaching silhouettes, who stopped by the bench to send him hate-filled glares, before bending and lifting the pale form that morphed from the moment their hands touched it, becoming, more clearly, a dark-haired child in their careful embrace. Ephemeral tears streaked down Lily’s cheeks as she pulled the boy to her promising in choked whispers that 'he was with them now, he’d never be hurt or hungry or sad again. Everything would be okay.' Beside her, James ran a soothing hand slowly up and down the tiny back while glaring daggers in his direction.

“Oh, Albus, you really didn’t listen very closely to the prophecy, did you?” the familiar voice questioned from beside him. ... 'Either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives’… What chance at survival did you think the lad would have locked away in his cupboard, abused, starved, and neglected? That's hardly a life at all, certainly not one that he would cling to.” 

“But his mother’s sacrifice… the prophecy…” 

Kept his body alive, yes, but his soul? Only that little bit you see there, really. What more did you expect though? Did you ever take the time to consider the prophecy through to its logical conclusion. Hmmm?”

“Yes, Poor Little Harry was a horcrux, holding a portion of my soul and tying the rest of my soul to its earthly existence, even as a wandering wraith. Likewise, though, the shabby vessel that wormtail managed to barely create is a horcrux tying this portion of my soul to the mortal plane and its connection to Harry’s body… Which begs the question: what has there been to tie Little Harry to his earthly existence? If he’d been raised in a family that loved him, the bond of Lily’s sacrifice might have been enough or Severus’s oath or Black’s godfather bond. Love is a powerful weapon after all; how sad that its blade was turned against him by its absence. His own strength of will might have even sufficed, if you had given it an environment his spirit could have flourished in without undermining the ties he could have had with the other children by publishing those adventure stories he could never hope to live up to and by alternately isolating him and coddling him with ridiculous shows of preferential treatment. The chosen one? Really, Albus? Even his closest friends had difficulty connecting with and understanding him because of the hype... “ 

“No, it cannot be…” 

“I would say that I’m sorry to disappoint you, Dumbledore, but I’m really not. Severus didn’t understand how correct he was claiming that you raised the boy to be slaughtered. Though, what hopes you thought a traumatized and neglected infant's soul would have had, against the sentience and soul of a wizard fifty years his senior who had traveled further down death’s path than any other, I cannot even imagine. Ah, well, as much as I know you would love to discuss this further, I’m afraid that I have a train to catch and followers to catch up with.”

“You are moving on?” Dumbledore questioned, finally overcoming his shock. 

“In a manner of speaking,” Harry’s image held his hands out letting the Elder Wand and Resurrection Stone materialize as a glimmering silohuette of silver stretched behind him in the barely visible folds of a cape - before he continued, “I do believe that, if I desire it, whatever train I chose to take will carry me either direction I wish to go, and I have a few more things I’d like to finish before moving on.” 

“Tom, don’t do this… what you’ve done to that boy is ...” 

“Nothing worse than what you’ve allowed to be done, Albus, I assure you; but seriously, don’t pity the dead. Harry’s with his parents, now, and will finally know peace and love..."

"No, it's the living you should pity, Albus. Pity the living."


End file.
